


I Need the Pain

by Trammel



Series: Daddy Issues [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bottom Tony Stark, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Daddy Kink, Dom Bruce, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I have no idea where this came from, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Serious Daddy Kink, Sub Tony, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Top Bruce Banner, bottom!tony, top!bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/Trammel
Summary: Bruce would do anything for Tony. Anything. But he wasn't sure about this. This might push them both too far…





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce was standing before the full-length mirror in the dressing room of his floor of the tower, trying to follow JARVIS' instructions and tie the damn tie that Tony had given him. It had taken a lot of help, but he had finally got it.

He stopped and looked at his reflection. He was wearing one of Tony's perfectly tailored white shirts - the dark blue tie and elegant dark slacks. Loafers made from he had no idea what kind of animal, which made his feet feel like he was walking on clouds. Also with JARVIS' help, he'd tamed his curls a bit using gel.

He didn't look like himself, and that was precisely the point. He looked like….well, what Tony needed him to look like. He was not going to think about that too much.

They'd talked. He'd made sure they talked a lot before attempting something like this. And as many safeguards as possible were in place - he had a specially-designed wristband on loaded with sedative, that JARVIS could activate if he felt it was necessary, and they'd come up with safe words as well as signals.

Neither of them were poster boys for good mental health, Bruce knew. But Tony wanted - Tony needed this. And Bruce would do anything - give Tony anything. They had established that if Bruce took control, the Other Guy felt no need to interfere in these things.

Bruce took a few deep breaths. He needed to be calm for this; Tony needed him. And Bruce wanted to give Tony anything, everything that he needed.

Interrupting his thoughts, JARVIS pulled up a text from Tony, who was waiting in the penthouse.

_Ready when you are, Sir._

Fuck. Anxiety and lust stirred in his gut, as images of what he was about to do flitted through his mind.

"Tell Tony I'll be down in five minutes."

"Of course," JARVIS replied.

"JARVIS, are you ready?"

"Yes, Dr. Banner. I shall monitor both you and Sir, and alert you should there be any danger to Sir."

Alright. _Game on._

Bruce picked up the dark blue suit jacket and slipped it on. This too fit like a glove.

Before leaving the room, he picked up the glass of scotch he'd poured. He would never actually drink it, but he swirled some around in his mouth - gotta play the part to perfection, even though he kind of felt like he was going to puke. He spit the liquor back out into the glass and put the glass down.

His heart was pounding and he couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement. He was afraid that it was a good dose of both.

_Ok. Come on, Banner. You can do this. He needs you._

_Make it hurt,_ Tony had begged, his face anguished. _I - I need the pain._

Bruce would do his best. Anything was better than walking in on Tony in that bathroom and seeing… He shook his head to clear away those thoughts, and started taking deep breaths.

He  kept his breathing steady as he took the elevator up to the penthouse. The doors slid open with a sharp ding that would notify Tony of his arrival. Calling up both his anger and his strict control of it, Bruce stepped forward into the suite.

"Anthony Edward Stark! Get your ass in here!" He bellowed.

Tony stepped into the room from the kitchen, took him in, eyes wide, his fingers plucking at his jeans and shifting from foot to foot.

 Bruce took a few more steps forward, then stood stock still, radiating anger and staring Tony down.

Tony stared, blinked a moment and then, just _quailed._ Bruce literally saw all the layers - _Iron Man-genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist-Tony fucking Stark - businessman - engineer -_ being ripped away and leaving a different Tony behind.

This Tony wrapped his arms around himself, unconsciously backing away from Bruce, as if he wanted to escape.

"Sir, sorry Sir - I - I didn't…"The voice wasn't even his. It was fearful, unsure.

"Shut up." Bruce swallowed and forced himself to continue. "You know what you did. Now you be a man and take your punishment." Bruce watched Tony swallow hard as well and start to shake. Bruce took a step forward, and Tony backed away further, towards the bedroom.

The scientist took off the jacket and laid it on the back of the couch, then lifted his arm very deliberately and undid one of the expensive S-shaped silver cuff-links Tony had lent him. He dropped the cuff-link to the floor and Tony's eyes followed his every movement as he slowly rolled up one sleeve of the perfectly pressed white shirt, then moved on to the other sleeve.

Bruce forced himself to continue because he wasn't completely sure that Tony was actually breathing. He knew JARVIS would speak up if Tony was in actual physical distress in any way.

He reached up slowly and loosened the tie that was kind of choking him. He didn't know how Tony managed to wear these things so much of the time.

Tony was watching him with large, frightened eyes. Bruce jerked his head to the right, toward the open door of the bedroom.

"Get in there." He kept his voice just this side of flat, anger seeping through but not too much.

Tony nodded, still shaking, and stumbled to obey, shuffling backwards on stocking feet until he reached the doorway. Bruce stalked forward, his eyes on Tony's. Tony stopped when his back hit the doorframe and swallowed again.

Bruce rolled his shoulders slightly, as if to lessen the tension flowing through him. As if he was having a hard time controlling himself. Playing a role. At least a little.

"Get. In. There," he growled harshly.              

Tony jumped backwards into the bedroom and Bruce followed, slamming the door behind them.

Tony kept backing away until he was stopped by a large dresser against the left wall of the room. The wooden dresser was wide and ornate and had a large mirror, and very much did not match the rest of the room. Bruce had never seen it before; Tony probably had it delivered just for this.

Bruce stopped a few feet from Tony and stood with his arms crossed, staring the other man down. He felt power flowing through him. Not the Other Guy. Him. It was an amazing feeling.

"Take off your shirt, turn around, and put your hands on the dresser."

"Y-yes, Sir," Tony's voice came, weak and frightened. Bruce never imagined that would turn him on, but it did.

Tony grabbed the hems of his t-shirts and pulled them up over his head, throwing them to the floor. He was left in his white undershirt.

Bruce stared hard at him, nodding his head slightly at the undershirt.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

Tony shook his head quickly, and Bruce saw his hand shaking as he reached down to pull off the shirt. Then Tony turned around and bent at the waist and putting his hands flat on the dresser. It was the perfect height and as Bruce moved forward to stand behind him, he could clearly see Tony's face in the mirror.

Tony was nothing if not a genius. This way Bruce could watch his face and check his every reaction to what Bruce was doing.

Those huge eyes met his in the mirror for a moment, then Tony stared down at the wood under his hands. His voice was almost a whisper.

"Third drawer sir."

"Did I say you could talk?" Bruce fought to keep his voice firm, angry. He reached out and splayed his right hand on Tony's bare back, feeling his warm skin, the tension thrumming through the man. He reached down and pulled the drawer open a bit with his other hand.

There was a pile of whips, crops and other implements, giving Bruce a wide choice of anything he wanted to hurt Tony with. He stood there a moment, looking at each tool, imagining what they would do to Tony's skin, what sounds Tony would make if he used them.

He picked up a relatively simple crop, long and black with a wide leather tongue at the end. He took a step back from Tony then, without warning, brought the crop down across the other man's back.

_Thwack!_

Tony's muscles bunched and he groaned as the crop came down again and again, leaving marks across his shoulders. But Tony didn't fight, just stayed in the position Bruce put him in, taking everything Bruce was giving him.

It was intoxicating.

The fact that if he wanted to, when Bruce wasn't green, Tony could easily fight him off just added to the headiness of the situation for Bruce. That Tony was submitting to him because he wanted to. That he was freely giving over his body to Bruce's control.

Bruce was surprised and a bit ashamed at how much he liked that. The warmth and excitement that was flooding through him. How much he _wanted_ this.

_Thwack!_

He brought the crop down again, then started an uneven rhythm, bringing it down diagonally across Tony's tanned shoulders, his torso. Bruce was entranced not only by Tony's body, but also by the sounds he was making. Gasps, grunts, small moans of pain, as the crop began to turn his back and shoulders red from the onslaught.

He watched Tony's hands scrambling against the wood of the dresser, nails scratching, but Tony didn't move from his bent position. Bruce looked up and met Tony's eyes in the mirror. Those wide, gorgeously expressive eyes. There was still fear there, but also exhilaration, and trust. So much trust…

He let out small gasps and his entire body jerked at each hit. Bruce kept going, marking his shoulders and back. Bruce knew to avoid his lower back; not wanting to cause damage to his kidneys,  but the rest of Tony's back was all Bruce's. He could cause a great deal of pain without causing damage.

And once he took Tony's jeans off, he could start on that ass. Bruce couldn't deny what he wanted now, not even to himself. He wanted to mark Tony up, all over. Make him scream. Make him his.

Bruce could feel his cock filling, heat flowing through him.

A few more blows and he took a small step back.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Tony turned to face him, his eyes wide and wet, his chest heaving with his panting breath.

"You know what you did?" Bruce demanded.

Tony nodded frantically. With his free hand Bruce grabbed Tony's left wrist, twisting his arm so they could both see the parallel cuts up and down his forearm.

"This. This is what you did."

"Sir, but - I didn't - I didn't mean-" Tony started. Bruce let go, pulled back and slapped Tony hard across the face. Tony jerked, stumbling backwards, amazement in his eyes.

"Who do you belong to?" Bruce snarled. He wasn't playing a part anymore. This was him. He needed Tony to be his, and if this was the way to do it, he would do anything.

"You sir, only you." There was relief in Tony's voice as he said it, and his whole body relaxed, tension flowing out of him. Bruce stepped closer to Tony, his face close enough to kiss him, feeling Tony's breath against his own mouth.

"Who gets to hurt you?" A whisper. At that Tony's eyes got even bigger.

"Only - only you, Daddy." Tony gasped, a shudder running through him. Tony's mouth was open, his tongue licking his lips while he panted hard, his eyes searching Bruce's, checking for his reaction.

They'd talked about that, what Tony would call him. Bruce had thought it would be difficult to hear that word from Tony, like this. He didn't know if he could do it.

But it wasn't. He realized he _liked_ it. He wanted it. His cock was throbbing in his pants now. These ridiculously expensive pants he couldn't wait to rip off. But he had to go slow. Do this right. So Tony would learn this lesson.

"You don't get to hurt yourself," Bruce growled into Tony's mouth, but not bringing their lips together. Then he took a small step back. "You understand? Understand that?" Tony nodded emphatically.

"Y-yes. Yes Sir."

Bruce nodded, then turned his eyes to the right, to their king-sized bed. Time to take this further.

"On your knees on the bed."

"Yes Sir." Tony nodded and rushed to obey.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He reached down with his free hand and traced the welt. Tony moaned at the contact but didn't move away. Bruce ran his hand over Tony's back, Tony's bleeding back, and was kind of horrified by the fact that he wasn't horrified, that he had fallen so far down this rabbit hole that he couldn't get out even if he wanted to, but he didn't want to because he was too enthralled, it was too intoxicating…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter of this, finally! Porn takes me so long to write...

Bruce stood a moment, looking down at Tony, just to catch his breath. Tony had obeyed him quickly, kneeling on the bed on his hands and knees, the light of the reactor reflecting blue on the tan sheets; Tony's reddened back bared to Bruce's eyes.

Tony's jeans were still on, but Bruce would fix that soon enough. He had to do this gradually, help Tony get where he needed to go. Where they both needed to go.

Bruce was flushed, overheated, more than usual. He put the crop down on the  dresser and reached up to undo the buttons of the dress shirt, his eyes not straying from Tony. He moved slowly, breathing deeply, trying not to let the headiness of the situation overtake him too much.

Finally, the scientist pulled the shirt off and let it fall to the floor, making sure his sedative wristband was still on tight. Tony turned his head to look at him. The engineer was shivering slightly but not moving from where Bruce had put him. His eyes were bright, pupils blown. Bruce drank in the sight of Tony willfully at his mercy.

"Sir?" Those eyes roamed Bruce's bare chest, both hungry and fearful.

Bruce strode forward quickly and grabbed Tony's hair, sinking his fingers into the short strands and shoving his face down into the blankets. That got a cut-off moan from the other man.

"Did I say you could talk? Or move?" Bruce growled, voice low and angry.

He let up a bit so Tony could breathe, and Tony whispered into the sheets. "Sorry-sorry sir."

Bruce looked down at Tony's back. The red marks across Tony's shoulder and back were enticing, but he wanted more. Needed more. He let go of Tony, going back to the drawer and rifling through the various implements - some of which he couldn't even recognize.

Finally he took hold of a flexible black crop with a small red tassel at the end. He didn't doubt that it was made from some material Tony had specially engineered. He smacked it lightly against his palm. Yes, the shaft would mark Tony's back up nicely.

He walked back to the bed, standing behind Tony. He took a moment to press the heel of his hand to his cock, to ease the tension a bit.

He could see Tony's body shaking with the strain of staying still, doing as Bruce told him.

"You gonna be a good boy and take your punishment?" Bruce's voice was thick with lust and amazement.

"Yes. Yes, sir," Tony let out a moan of relief, and some of the tension flowed out of him. Bruce ran the crop across Tony's reddened shoulders, tapping it lightly against Tony's skin and getting small gasps from the man.

"Who do you belong to?" He heard Tony start to answer, but Bruce brought the crop down sharply across his back and the answer turned into a yell.

"-Ah! Ah! You! You sir!"

Tony struggled a bit to stay still as Bruce whacked the crop down again, raising diagonal welts down his left side. Tony grunted in pain, but didn't move.

Bruce added just a bit of strength and the crack reverberated through the room, and through Bruce's body, heat flowing through him. He kept on at a rhythm, spacing the welts out, while avoiding Tony's lower back. Those strong shoulders bunched and Tony's body jerked at each strike.

"Only I get to hurt you." The crop sliced through the air again, then came down on Tony's back, raising another red welt.

Yes-" Tony gasped, and his words cut off into a sob. His hands were grasping the blankets, his fingers digging into the mattress. Bruce stopped to palm his cock again, another image came into his mind. He wanted to immobilize Tony a bit.  

"Don't move," he ordered. He put the crop down and reached for his belt. He only faltered a little when he undid the buckle. But Tony's back was turned to him and the other man didn't see it. Bruce took a breath and pulled his belt out of his pants, the sound of it sliding out of the belt loops twisting in his stomach.

He strode forward and pushed Tony down onto his stomach, then straddled Tony's ass and roughly reached down to grab Tony's hands, pulling them above his head and wrapping the belt around his wrists. Tony moaned underneath him, not fighting, just letting Bruce do whatever he wanted.

Bruce pulled the belt tight, making sure it wouldn't come off unless Tony really struggled, but then ran his fingers underneath it to check that it wouldn't hamper circulation.

Jarvis would be monitoring at all times anyway and Tony had his safeword. Bruce stood back up, running his hand over Tony's back in the process. The engineer shivered under his touch.

"Jarvis?" Bruce tried to make it sound like an order, not a request. Immediately two screens came up to the left of the bed, showing Tony's blood pressure, heart rate and other important vitals, with yellow and red signaling danger zones. His readings were well below dangerous levels.

Bruce felt his own heart pounding like crazy, but wasn't afraid. He was in complete control here.

Tony had been a perfect boy scout, preparing everything they would need, either on the bed or on the nightstand. Bruce grabbed up the small, custom-made pillow and put it under Tony's stomach. It was made to keep the reactor from being pressed into the bed and pressing too hard into Tony's chest.

He slapped Tony's thigh. "Back up on your knees."

Tony groaned in acknowledgement, and got his knees under him, keeping his elbows and bound hands on the bed. He rested his forehead on his bound hands.

"Don't move. You take what I give you and don't move." Bruce didn't recognize the darkness in his own voice, but Tony reacted to it. He was openly crying now, not loudly but not trying to hide it. "Sorry, sorry sir…"

Bruce started on his right side, the new welts criss-crossing the ones on the left. Tony's moans, his tears, the welts, everything was driving Bruce's arousal higher.

"You" - _thwack - "_ you don't hurt yourself." Bruce kept the strikes coming, Tony's body jerking at each one. "Tell me why!" He demanded.

"Y-yours - ah - Sir."

"Mine," Bruce growled. "Mine." He added another bit of strength, and the new welt was larger, crossing one on the left. Bruce stopped a moment to stare, as a drop of blood bloomed to the surface of Tony's skin.

He reached down with his free hand and traced the welt. Tony moaned at the contact but didn't move away. Bruce ran his hand over Tony's back, Tony's bleeding back, and was kind of horrified by the fact that he wasn't horrified, that he had fallen so far down this rabbit hole that he couldn't get out even if he wanted to, but he didn't want to because he was too enthralled, it was too intoxicating…

Tony was always telling him to let out his dark side more, and damned if this wasn't him listening. Having Tony completely at his mercy was making him so hard he couldn't think. Strangely, the Other Guy was completely quiet now. This was all Bruce.

He pressed his hand hard against Tony's back, forcing him down against the mattress. Trying to connect to the few of his brain cells that were working, he straddled Tony's ass and spread himself against Tony's back. Tony moaned under him and gasped in pain.

He pressed Tony down against the bed, resting his hands on the other man's for a moment. They'd decided beforehand - if Tony wasn't talking for some reason, but gave a squeeze with his right hand, that meant keep going. Left hand or nothing would mean stop.

They hadn't known if Tony would be coherent enough to speak in the middle of this. He was speaking, but he was also sobbing, and moaning and pretty incoherent. Every few minutes he would let out a soft, scared, "sorry, Sir. So sorry…"

"You're being good. You're taking your punishment." He licked up the side of Tony's neck, feeling the man's pulse pounding underneath the skin. "But you need more, don't you? You need more to get through your thick head."

"Yes," Tony sobbed out. "Please…" But Bruce felt Tony's right hand squeeze his. Hard. And Tony pressed himself against Bruce, moaning at the pain he must be feeling. Then his hips pressed down against the bed.

Bruce kneeled back up and his hands scrabbled at Tony's waist, undoing his belt and zipper. He felt Tony's cock straining underneath the fabric of Tony's jeans. He tucked his thumbs into Tony's boxer briefs and pulled the jeans and boxers down over that fantastic ass.

He stumbled back off the bed, his heart beating in his ears. Though the screens JARVIS had up showed him nowhere near the danger zone.

Bruce pulled off Tony's jeans and black boxer briefs, down over his shaking legs and dumped them carelessly on the floor. Then Tony was completely naked, laid out on the bed, just for him. _His._

The muscles of Tony's ass clenched as he continued to thrust against the bed, his moans no longer pain but all pleasure.

"None of that! Get up on your knees again, "Bruce ordered, smacking Tony's ass cheek sharply. Tony gasped out a sob, but obeyed. He kept his head down and lifted his lower body, his legs shaking, but just about holding him up.

 

Bruce picked the crop back up. He wasn't nearly done.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I got you. I got you boy," Bruce's voice was so deep he didn't recognize it himself, but it wasn't the Other Guy. The Other Guy was far away. This was all him. "Stay there."

Bruce stood behind Tony, running the crop lightly over the yet unmarked skin of that amazing ass. Tony was shaking, but keeping his ass up and head down, laid out and waiting for whatever Bruce wanted to do to him.

"You're doing well, so well, taking your punishment," Bruce said, his voice rough and thick with lust. "Last 10."

"Y-yes, sir."

Bruce took a deep breath and raised the crop. He paused a moment and let his eyes eat up Tony's golden skin, criss-crossed with welts, body shaking with the tension of trying to stay still.

The crop came down with a sharp crack on Tony's right cheek. Tony let out a cry, a mix of pain and pleasure. Bruce brought the crop down again while his left hand palmed his clothed cock. Tony's cries, his moans, his tears were feeding the fire inside Bruce.

Three more, quickly, on the right, not giving Tony time to think, to recover between strikes.

Five welts rising diagonally on the right, and Bruce moved to give five last strikes to the left side, Tony moaning at each, then trying to catch his breath between tears.

Bruce decided enough with the crop, and flung it aside. His cock was pressing painfully now at the seams of his too-tight pants (they were Tony's after all). He kneeled on the bed, on Tony's right side, one hand on Tony's hip, holding him still.

"Daddy?" came Tony's weak voice, his head turned to look at Bruce. His face was wet with tears and his eyes were blown wide. "Please."

His words were starting to slur. Bruce wanted to make sure that Tony could use the hand signals they'd agreed on if words failed him.

"You're doing so well for me. But don't move. I'm not done with you," Bruce said while reaching over to unhook the belt and unroll it from around Tony's wrists. Tony nodded at him, then turned his head back to face the mattress.

Bruce didn't feel ready to stop. His fingers trailed down Tony's hot, welted back, pressing here and there. Tony stuttered out a desperate gasp and pressed his hips down again, seeking friction.

Bruce knew what to do with that. His left hand came down - fwack! - hard on Tony's ass. Tony jerked against the mattress.

"Take this. You just take this." He decided to keep going with his hand, feeling Tony's skin underneath him, that ass slowly turning red under the onslaught, his palm coming down hard on the welts he'd made with the crop.

Bruce alternated cheeks, drinking in the gasps and moans he got out of Tony. Then came an outright sob, and Tony's shaking increased.

"No- no! Please, Daddy," Tony cried out, but his right hand whipped down to grab Bruce's on the mattress and squeeze hard.

Right hand. Keep going. That meant keep going.

"You're mine and I decide what you need," Bruce growled, his hand moving faster, coming down on the tender skin where ass met thigh, then moving back up. He may have lost himself a bit in the feel of it, Tony's sounds, the feel of his hand slapping down on that hot skin…

"Please, Sir, please," Tony hiccupped after a while, drawing shaky breaths.

Bruce shook his head to clear it a bit. He saw that Tony's ass was turning a bright red from hand prints, interlaced with the welts. He forced himself to take a few breaths and look over at the holoscreens.

Vitals were still ok. JARVIS put up a message at the bottom of the screen - "Brainwaves suggested Sir may be in subspace."

Bruce blinked at that. That was …. it took a great deal of trust to get to subspace. And Tony was there.

Bruce would have time to analyze his feeling later. Right now he had to keep Tony there. He rested his hand on Tony's ass, then squeezed, digging his fingers into Tony's skin. Tony's cries grew louder.

"You're mine."

"Yes, yes sir." Tony turned his head again to look at Bruce, blinking away tears from his eyes, which were filled with light and gratitude.

"Ye-yes, Daddy."

Bruce grabbed at Tony's skin, his reddened ass, his fingers digging in, causing Tony more pain. And Tony just ate it up, spreading his shaking legs wider.

"I cn - I can be good, Daddy. Please."

"Can you? Can you be a good boy for me?" Bruce reached his right hand around to take hold of Tony's cock, his hard length poking the pillow under his stomach. Bruce wrapped his large hand around Tony's cock and pulled up and down. Tony keened, thrusting into his hand.

"yes-yes-yes-please-"

Bruce was afraid he wouldn't be able to control himself. Not the Other Guy, but this part of himself that was enjoying this so so much, and wanted to keep going. To hurt Tony. To see the bruises he was leaving, the marks, the blood. Each one was pushing his arousal higher. He was getting drunk on Tony's pain.

It was amazing.

Bruce let go and moved to kneel between Tony's spread legs. He grabbed Tony's hips and rutted against Tony's abused ass. Tony's moans continued but he was pressing his ass back against Bruce.

"Please Daddy-" Tony gasped out. "Need…need you."

"I got you. I got you boy," Bruce's voice was so deep he didn't recognize it himself, but it wasn't the Other Guy. The Other Guy was far away. This was all him. "Stay there."

He stood up on shaky legs and looked over at the nightstand. Tony had been a real boy scout, setting out anything they could need (and things Bruce was not ready to use yet). Tony's wet eyes tracked him as he laid out a clean towel on the empty side of the bed and condom beside it. He picked up the bottle of lube and started to slick his right hand.

"Move over here. Face down," he ordered, and Tony obeyed, leaving the pillow behind and presenting his battered body to Bruce's eyes (and hands) once again.

Bruce wanted to get rid of the slacks, but that would break the fiction, and the fiction was helping Tony get where he needed to go. So he unzipped and pulled out his cock. The first stroke of his own fingers was heaven, but it was about to get better.

He kneeled between Tony's spread legs and let Tony feel his cock pressed against his left thigh, while he ran his fingertips over his pink hole.

"Gonna be good?"

"G-good, Sir."

Bruce slipped a slicked finger inside Tony's hole. He went slowly but not too gently; that wasn't what Tony needed. He pulled back a bit and thrust in again.

"This? Is this what my boy needs?"

"Yes. Ah! - Yes Daddy please! Please!" Tony was pressing up against him, not flinching away.

Bruce added another finger and kept thrusting into Tony's hole, stretching him out, watching the muscle stretch around him. He slapped Tony's ass cheek hard, growling. "Wider."

Tony spread his shaking legs wider, trying to stay balanced. He put his head down on his crossed arms, giving himself up to Bruce.

All of this that he didn't even know he needed.

He kept his fingers moving. He didn't want to actually hurt Tony. Though Bruce felt he was losing control. Of himself. The Other Guy was quiet. Bruce was the one that wanted, no _needed_ this.

"God, you were made for this. For me." Bruce couldn't hold back the emotions flowing through him. Lust, yes, fire burning through him. But more than that. That Tony would let him do this, that Tony would give him this…

He finally pulled his fingers back, getting a whine from Tony.

"Stay still!" He slapped Tony's ass again for good measure, then forced himself to concentrate on opening the condom and getting it on. He checked that it was on correctly, and dumped a generous amount of lube onto himself, using his hand to spread it around.

Bruce looked down at the pink hole waiting for him, not gaping but open enough. He grabbed hold of Tony's hips hard enough to bruise. He would definitely going to leave a spattering of bruises on Tony, on top of the welts and the hand marks, and the thought of that was just pushing him on, making him crazier.

He let the analytical part of his mind go, just turned it off, and pressed the head of his cock into Tony. He moved slowly, so his boy would feel every inch, sliding in until he was fully seated inside Tony, his balls pressed against the heated skin of Tony's ass and the metal fly of the slacks cutting into Tony's skin. Tony keened under him.

"Tony - Tony - oh god." Bruce stopped there for a moment, balls-deep, his hands an iron grip on Tony's hips. Just to breathe, to find his control again, wrestle it back for a moment.

"Yes, please, uh - uh - Daddy, n-need you!"

"That's what you need from Daddy, right?"

"Ye-yeah." It sounded like Tony's words were leaving him, but he let out little gasps that were all positive.

Bruce pulled back, almost all the way out, and thrust again, Tony's velvety heat opening to take him in.

"You're so good. Oh, god, you're so good." Bruce didn't know whether this was heaven or hell, but whatever it was, now that he'd felt it, he wasn't giving it up. This was his. Tony was _his._

He leaned down and pressed himself against the engineer's ravaged back, earning a moan of both pain and pleasure. Bruce licked at the skin of Tony's neck, tasting his sweat, then bit down. Tony jerked underneath him, clenching around Bruce's length inside him.

"That's it," he whispered.

Staying inside Tony, Bruce kneeled back up and gave a last glance at the screens. Tony's heart could take more. Tony could take more.

Anchoring himself to Tony's hips, Bruce moved faster, thrusting harder. Tony was gasping at each thrust, small "ah-ah-ahs" that Bruce had never heard from him before. He'd taken Tony down, far beyond the man's masks and self-control. Hopefully down far enough that the lesson would stick.

Bruce tilted Tony's hips a bit and thrust back in, moving to find…there it was. Tony cried out as Bruce's cock nailed his prostate. Having the right angle, Bruce lost himself for a while, just in the tight heat of Tony's body and his boy's sounds, the sound of his hips slapping against Tony's ass.

"…need…" Tony slurred, and Bruce understood.

"Yes, sweetheart. Show me how much you like this. How much you need me. You can touch yourself."

Bruce didn't break his rhythm, keep his hands tight on Tony's hips, while Tony shifted to prop himself on one arm and bring the other to stroke his own cock. Tony pressed back into Bruce's thrusts and forward into his own hand.

"That's it. That's right," Bruce gasped, his rhythm faltering a bit. He felt his balls tightening, heat curling in his stomach. Tony moved faster and faster, and let out a shout, clenching around Bruce and finding his release. Bruce pounded harder, chasing his own pleasure.

He pressed hard, too hard, against Tony as he came, growling out sounds that weren't human, his brain going offline for a moment, the pleasure overwhelming him.

Bruce came back to himself and let go of Tony's hips. He could hear Tony softly sobbing. Bruce gently ran his hand along Tony's side, avoiding the welts now.

"You were so so good, baby. So good." He carefully pulled out of Tony and did away with the condom, tying it off and dropping it in the small trash can by the bed to be dealt with later.

Tony was still face down on the bed. Bruce checked the screens, while he spoke as gently as he could.

"Turn on your side, baby."

Tony rolled to his left, moaning a bit in pain. He looked wrecked, eyes blown and face wet with tears. He was shaking, reaching out to Bruce desperately. Bruce knelt back on the bed and put a comforting hand on Tony's shoulder.

"I'm right here, just cleaning up," he said softly. Tony gave him a small nod through his tears.

Bruce kept one hand on Tony, and pulled the towel from underneath him to clean Tony's spend from his stomach. He tossed the towel to the floor and lay down on his right side, facing Tony.

He opened his arms and the engineer moved to press his face to Bruce's chest, grabbing onto Bruce as if he were drowning. He heard Tony's breathe hitch, once, twice, then Tony started sobbing in earnest, uncontrollably, as if he would never stop.

Bruce wanted to tend to Tony's wounds, they had specially designed creams for Avengers-strength injuries that would heal him quicker. But that would have to wait. He swallowed down his fear and guilt and wrapped his arms as gently around Tony as he could, so he wouldn't hurt him. Tony was curled into him as if he wanted to climb inside him. Sobbing and gasping against Bruce's chest.

"Tony?" Bruce whispered, trying not to show how this was scaring him. Tony's right hand squeezed his arm. Twice. Three times. Right hand. Right. Ok.

Holding his right arm wrapped around the small of Tony's back, Bruce reached down with his other hand and pulled the sheet up over them. Then he started to speak, to whisper softly to Tony. Gently.

"Shhh. Shhh. I'm here. I'm right here." He stroked Tony's hair softly with his left hand. "You were so good. You were perfect, Tony. You're so perfect." He leaned down to press a kiss to Tony's head. "You're mine and I'm keeping you. I'm not going to let anyone else have you."

Tony's hand squeezed his arm again at that, but kept his eyes tightly shut.

"I'm always gonna take care of you, ok? Always."

Tony managed some sort of grunt in response to that, but Bruce felt the man's fevered breathing slowing a tiny bit. Bruce just kept whispering to Tony, holding on tight.

A long time passed like that, he didn't know how long, with Tony holding on to him, crying and grabbing on to him, until Tony's tears finally stopped. Not moving, not opening his eyes, Tony spoke.

"Thank you." His voice was rough and broken.

"I don't know if you should be thanking me for that…"

Tony moved back enough to tilt his face up to Bruce's and wiped some tears from Tony's cheek. Those beautiful eyes opened slowly. They were a bit clearer, calmer than before. Some of the pain was gone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should, Sir." Tony gave him a small smile, then leaned in and kissed Bruce desperately. Then he took a shaky breath.

"Whatever you need, any time. You know that."

Tony moved back to press himself against Bruce, holding on for dear life.

"I'll be taking you up on that." Tony whispered.

God, Bruce hoped so. Bruce really hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not terribly happy with this, but if I don't post I'll never post. I am making this a series!

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting the first chapter of this! Been working on it forever.


End file.
